Planetside
by Leonessa Ivanovna
Summary: After the God Complex, Amy and Rory are left on Earth. No Doctor now, but the Earth still needs defending. Who better than the Lone Centurion?
1. Chapter 1

_First Fic in this Fandom. I have been watching DW since I was four, though. So I know all about the Zygons and Susan and Ramona and Sarah and Ace._

_Anywho...without further ado, here is the first chapter of Planetside_

_Disclaimer: Owened bu the fantastic BBC. Writen by so many people I don't really want to list them all, but credit has to go to Donald Wilson. He started it._

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><p>CHAPTER 1<p>

Keep your fingers crossed for luck. Rory almost snorted. Did the Doctor really think that crossing their fingers would keep them safe?  
>"It feeds of your fear," the Doctor said.<br>They had already lost Joe and the kid with the stutter, Howard. Rory had spoken to him, before...  
>But now only he and Amy and the Doctor were left. And Gibbis, and Rita.<br>Even after they trapped the Monitor in the hair salon (who has a fear of hair salons?) it managed to escape.  
>He hadn't been afraid. Even when it had broken the glass and pulled away the mop jamming the door, he hadn't been scared. It must have something to do with having almost two thousand years of experience behind you. Even if he did have to repress all the memories to keep sane.<br>Rory watched as Amy stopped to talk to Gibbis. She was most likely telling him tales of the Doctor, of how wonderful he was, of how he would save them. Rita was making tea in the kitchen. Rory could smell it from where he sat. He looked around the room, the circular tables, the white tablecloths, all set like there was about to be a party. In a psychotic 1980's hotel that tried to kill you with fear.  
>Rory didn't realize he was shredding napkins into a pile until the Doctor sat down next to him.<br>"How are you doing?" the Doctor asked. He was holding a cup of tea. So Rita had finished in the kitchen. She was a doctor too. And he was Rory, the Nurse.  
>Rory shoved the pile of shredded paper away. "Fine."<p>

The Doctor looked him straight in the eyes. "Are you sure?"  
>"I'm not scared." Rory half chuckled. "I'm…" he stopped to think, "one thousand, eight hundred and ninety four years. There's not much left to be scared of if you're that old."<p>

The Doctor shrugged. "I guess so…" Rory watched him look over the room, where Joe and Howard and the dummies were lined up. The Doctor's eyes were glazed. Rory didn't push, he knew from experience that he just had to wait. The Time Lord would talk eventually.

"Is it something else?"

Rory started. He still wasn't used to the Doctor treating him as an equal.

He faced the Doctor, or at least, the side of the Doctor's face.

"I'm not sure, Doctor." Rory answered honestly. "I'm not scared."

"I know…" The Doctor's brow furrowed. "But what else do you lack?"

Before Rory could respond, the Doctor stood up and looked around.

"I've got things to do." And he left.

Rory smiled at Amy as she put some grocery bags on the counter. The green plastic crinkled as she dug through them.

"It's in here somewhere," she muttered. Amy turned to the other bag, her red hair swinging in a thick curtain. Rory watched from the doorway.

"Viola!" she cried, and wrenched free a bag of mixed nuts. "What do you think? Will it work for Jeff's party?"

"I think he would prefer it if you were still a kiss-o-gram." Rory joked.

It had been two months since the Doctor had left them in London. Really, it wasn't that bad. Amy had only cried a few times. Mostly it was when she saw their front door. Rory knew how she felt, how the blue color seemed almost exactly like those TARDIS had-or has, Rory supposed. The Doctor hadn't ended. He just left. But sometimes it felt like the same thing.

They had moved on, though.

Amy had tracked down Jeff and his latest girlfriend about a week after they had been permanently grounded. She went to clubs or pubs or whatever else they did on Friday nights. Rory usually opted out. He felt too old, like he imagined teachers must feel chaperoning secondary school dances. He used to work extra shifts or managed their finances (not that Amy hadn't done it a thousand times before) or went for long walks, remembering a London older and newer looking at the same time. He went to the museum once, vaguely remembering Amy telling of how the Doctor went to them sometimes to keep score.

He had passed the Roman exhibit (resisting the urge to tie the laces properly on the armor. Honesty, how were you supposed to move with it tied like that?) and somehow ended up in the war section. Perhaps it was a traveling exhibit. He paused at the Hundred Years War, World War I, the Russian Revolution, and so many others. One picture stopped him. It was a photograph taken of Normandy Beach, from the allied craft landing; looking up past the 'X's of metal made to tear out the bottoms of boats like so many teeth. The stretch of sand that reminded him of Space Florida; past the waves of barbed wire. Even higher still, showing the white expanse of cliffs. It cut off below the machine gun turrets that Rory knew dotted the top and sides. Rory didn't know how long he stood, staring at the picture, before he noticed the man next to him. He was old and wrinkled, sporting a faded jacket and trousers. Even though he was hunched and wizened, he still tried to keep his spine stiff. It must seem a sad sight, Rory and the old man, although Rory _felt_much the same way. Old, stooped, and tired. The worst part was the memories kept him awake. No, there were worse things, if Rory truly thought about them. He chose not to. Better to focus on the now.

"I was there." He croaked.

Rory looked at the man again.

"On the beach." The man said, as if there could be any other.

There was pride in his voice, but mostly sadness and pain. Age colored it the most.

"I know." Rory had replied. He had been there too. There was an American kid, named Jeffers who somehow ended up on the boat. In fact, there were quite a few Americans…

"I stormed the beach with a bunch of Limeys." The old man said conversationally. "You know, there was one crazy guy with a sword?"

Rory winced. Not one of his brightest moments.

The old man was still staring at the picture. "He charged right ahead, shouting something mad. You know, some of us just did an 'ahhhh'." He paused to collect his breath. "But this guy, Williams or something….William. He was some kind of Latin scholar. And William, he ran up that beach shouting '_erm_ _victia'_!" the old man chucked. "Crazy guy."

"_Enim Victoria!_" Rory whispered. He remembered, _For Victory._It had seemed appropriate at the time.

Rory was watching Jeffers closely now, but the man's gaze never wavered from the picture. Rory was sure it was him. "And then I got hit, in the leg" he tapped it, "and fell screaming into a bunch of wire."

He stopped talking. Rory was busy flipping through his memories. There were so many aliases, so many cover stories and questions…

"Right," Jeffers cleared his throat. "So I was stuck there, flailing like a fish and sobbing and crying for my mom, and William appears. So I tells him:  
>'Looks like you dropped right out of the sky.'<br>And he laughs…he had this funny laugh, this old laugh…and he says 'No one's told me that before.'  
>'Can you help me out?' I ask him, and he pauses. Then he shrugs. We're in the middle of a beach, getting shot <em>down<em> at, about to die and the crazy Brit shrugs, and he says:  
>'I haven't lived a thousand years just to let people die.'<br>And he hauled me over his shoulder and took me to a medic. "

Rory swallowed. He remembered _that_ part, the incredible rush of running up the beach. Some part of his brain was analyzing constantly, and that part had heard Jeffers go down. Rory had gone back for him. It was the right thing to do at the time. Like pulling out a gladus while storming Normandy in the middle of World War Two. What did the Doctor say, once? _"Christmas Eve, on a rooftop, and my whole brain went 'what the hell'!"_  
>Rory had done that too.<br>Jeffers coughed again, softly. "I met my wife a few weeks later, she was a nurse see, told her all about Willliam. She said he hadn't come in, but there was so many wounded that she wasn't sure either. So Ester and I looked through the records. Do you know?" Jeffers looked at Rory. "He wasn't there. Willam wasn't anywhere. I mean, it's not the most common last name anyone's ever had, but I couldn't find him. The Latin scholar."

Jeffers rubbed his chin. "You look like him. What's your name?"

Rory knew he could have lied, but that would be too hard. He had lied so much already. To patients, to their parents, their loved ones, to the Doctor and himself. _To_ _Amy_. "Rory Williams."

"Williams?" Jeffers shook his head. "Any relatives fought in the wars?"

Rory grinned slightly, "If they had I didn't meet them."

Jeffers balked. "It's you…" he stammered.

Rory watched in alarm as he saw the man's resolve collapse.

"I mean…" Jeffers was shaking, crying slightly. Then he grabbed Rory's hand and shook it. "You saved my life. God damn you, you saved my life."

Rory gently pulled his hand free. "I'll see you around, Jeffers." He said, and then walked away, leaving the man to cry in front of the picture.

Was this what the Doctor felt like, when he left his companions behind?

The guilt felt like lead.

"Stupid face."

Rory flinched as the bag of mixed nuts came hurtling towards him. He caught it, and hastily set it back on the counter.

Amy had her hands on her hips. She looked very put out. "I have been calling your name for the past four minutes. The _least_you could do it pretend you're paying attention."

"Right." Rory replied.

"I was saying that we need to leave now it we want to get there on time." Amy gestured to the bags on the counter. "I'll put these away if you take the nuts to the car, okay?"

"Okay," Rory said, "nuts to the car. Got it."

Amy pulled up to Jeff's door. She slid the car into park and paused to look at Rory.

"Listen," she said, putting her hand on his. "I know you didn't want to come."

Rory glanced up at her, surprised.

"Oh don't give me that look," she snapped. She took a deep breath. "It's just… you need to get out more. Have adventures _here_. Not spend all your time locked in your brain." Amy poked his forehead to drive her point home.

"Alright," Rory said. "Let's go."

He unbuckled and made a move to leave the car. A figure strode past the windscreen. Rory jerked back in surprise. What was he doing here?

Amy watched the man too. "Who is that?"

The man strode confidently up to Jeff's door and knocked. Rory was apprehensive. There was only one person he knew who wore that coat anymore.

Rory got out of the car. "An old friend."

Amy looked at him oddly. "I know _all_ your friends. There is only so many people that live in Ledworth. I mean…" she looked at the figure disappearing through the front door and back at Rory. "I would have remembered _him_."

Rory laughed. "I mean, a really old friend."

"Really?" Amy's mouth dropped open. "Can we meet him? Maybe he'll tell me more than you do!"

She started towards the front door, the spun back. "The nuts!"

Rory made a move towards the back seat. Amy waived him off. She opened the back door and froze.

"You brought it?" Amy reached in carefully and pulled out the bag of nuts. Her eyes were fixed on the sword peeking out from beneath the seat. "What possessed you?"

"Be prepared." Rory said.

Amy slammed the door shut. "You're not a bloody Girl Scout." She marched huffily towards the front door.

Rory hurried to catch up. "Actually, that was the Boy Scouts, started by Lord Baden Powell. He was a nice guy." He paused. "The mustache was a bit much. I told him to shave, but…" Rory shrugged, as if that explained the eccentrics of historical figures.

Amy giggled. "You remind me of him sometimes."

Rory paused. They stood at the door. It was painted green with a brass knob.

"Is that good?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "It's good."

Amy insisted on knocking.

A young blonde girl opened the door, holding a can. She grinned at them. Rory liked her, a bit. She looked innocent, full of life. In short, the girl looked juvenile.  
>"Hello." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Jackie. Jackie Enwind."<p>

Amy gripped it tightly. "I'm Amy Williams." She shook briskly, and then elbowed Rory.

Rory smiled tightly. "Rory". He didn't shake her hand.

Jackie's brows furrowed. Then her expression cleared. She stepped back from the door.  
>"I'm keeping you out aren't I? You're probably freezing, right?"<p>

Rory was about to say, no he wasn't. That she didn't know what cold was until she marched shoeless in the middle of winter over burnt-out fields, dragging a box the color of night because there were no more stars…

Amy none-too-gently elbowed him again, so he followed her lead inside. She introduced him to lots of people. Some reminded him of Romans, or Gauls, or other friends, and he wondered if they were decedents. Perhaps Amy remembering so strongly had fused time or something.

Then he ran into Jeff, in the kitchen. Jeff wasn't drinking, which was new to Rory. He looked well, a bit heavier than when Rory had last seen him (had it really been the Stag Night? Jeff hadn't made it to the wedding…) with a new girlfriend named Rita. She looked nothing like the Rita Rory had known. This Rita was bouncy and giggly and on her fourth drink. The food hadn't even been put out yet. Rory doubted they would have gotten along, her and the Rita he left behind. Finally she left, and Jeff could really talk.

"I've gotten a new job." He announced.

"Really," Rory said. He gave Jeff the same look he saw the Doctor use on the aristocrats in Pre-Revolutionary France. In fact, Rory might have used it then too.

"Yep, BBC. I'm a screenwriter for the historical programs. My first is airing tonight."

"That's fantastic." Rory responded. History. He'd have to get out before it started to avoid the flashbacks.

"Yep. It'll be on in …" Jeff checked his watch. "Five minutes."

No escaping from it then.

"What's it about?" _Not the Black Plague. Or the Queen Mary, the Bloody one. Most of the Elizabeths were alright._Rory tuned back in when he heard:

"…roman, who did all sorts of awesome things. Well, not really. We did this under the idea it was a kind of guild. Like the Masons or something." Jeff grinned broadly. He checked his watch again. "Two minutes until…"

He was cut off by a cry of "Jeff! Rory!" from the den.

The two men walked in. Rory saw the Amy had put mixed nuts in a glass bowl. It was blue, of course, nestled between some limp looking sandwiches and fish fingers. There was no custard on the table. Rory checked twice.

Rita raised the volume on the television as Rory sat down next to Amy on the couch. The screen was black, and then scrolling text showed Jeff's name (which was greeted with cheers) and a half dozen other writers. Then it cut to a frumpy looking woman in an ill-fitting green suit, sitting it what looked like a library. She smiled at the camera.

"He has lived for thousands of years. Some say he is as old as time itself. That he has seen the beginning and end of every star, and all the time in-between."

Rory shot a glance at Amy. She shrugged, but frowned slightly.

"This man, this young-ancient man is found in every story around the globe. He never ages, never seems to portray the years that have passed him by. His is eternal, some might say. People claim to have met him. On the Silk Road he is documented, and Leonardo spoke to him. Other people: mothers and daughters, soldiers and peace-makers, and everyone else. Kings and emperors have begged for his counsel."

The woman paused, and the screen cut to another man. He was dressed in traditional Roman garb. He was looking right at the viewers.

It unnerved Rory. He stole a glance around the room. It appeared that every person was enthralled. Jeff was grinning happily to himself. Amy had her eyes riveted to the box.

"Is it about the Doctor?" he whispered in her ear.

She waived him impatiently away with a "Shhh!"

By that time the (flax) Roman was speaking.

"When my men told me about him, I could not believe. They said he had been waiting for a year, maybe a little more. He was dressed in proper attire, but he spoke brokenly. He was to wait, he said."

Rory heard Amy gasp. Rory glanced at Jeff, at the others. They thought they were so clever. So young, so bright, doffing up history and putting on a show with it. Rory made a move to stand, but Amy grabbed his arm. He looked down at her, at her hand gripping him so hard.

She shook her head, so he sat down. The (flax) Roman told of the centurion who looked like all other centurions, one who claimed that Mercury, the god of tricks and thieves and time, had given him a mission to guard the box, and what it contained. The actor garbled the word Pandorica. That made Rory grin, slightly. When Sextilius had spoken to him, he had known exactly how to pronounce Pandorica.

Then (flax) Sextitus told of how he tried to remove the Pandorica, and leave the centurion behind. Rory stopped smiling, held his breath.

"The centurion killed ten of my men." The (flax) Sextilius said. He had none of the anguish the real Sextitus had. The real Sextitus had screamed like a man who had lost his children. "I agreed to allow the centurion to accompany the Pandorica back to Rome."

(Flax) Sextilius kept talking, telling of the journey, of how the centurion barely ate and slept less, of how the centurion spoke to the barbarians as easily as he did to a Roman.

That was because he had no translation circuit. Rory had no help. The TRADIS was busy _exploding_in space, trying to keep the Earth in existence. It had no time for him. Well, sometimes it nudged him, to where he needed to be. He would always go, always, after the one time he refused…

There was so much guilt in almost two thousand years of living.

Amy's nails dug into his skin and he looked back at the screen. It looked like the show was attempting at a Gual this time, speaking of the fall of Rome.  
>The Gaul swallowed hard on screen. At least he was trying act the part.<p>

"This centurion stood on a hill just outside of Rome. The flames were reflected in his eyes, and I was terrified. He might have been Mars, for all the care he seemed to show to the city below him." The Gaul paused. "I was running away, for I didn't want to be a slave again. When he looked at me…I thought he would kill me on the spot. Did gods not kill you when you looked at their true from? He looked into my soul with those eyes. Old man's eyes in a young man's body and godlike enough to be above time. He spoke to me. The centurion said, 'Emperies do not fall'. Then he looked over the city, over the screams and fires. 'They die'."

The lady in the ill-fitting suit was back on again. "This one of the guardian's mantas throughout history. Yet he never told it to rulers, records show us. He told it to the common folk. The centurion like to speak to all kinds of people, it seems. History shows us that the Pandorica traveled to India and stayed for a few years, under the watchful eyes of its sentinel, the Lone Centurion."

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><p><em>Well? What did you think? Good, bad, ugly?<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_What? Two chapters in one day? Don't get used to it. I usually get a chapter done every two weeks. _

_Disclaimer: I if owened Doctor Who...We would know what happened to all the Classic companions._

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><p>CHAPTER 2<p>

The Shadow Proclamation hung in space, a cluster of asteroids hooked together by glass and metal.

Red eyes scanned the data-pad. Small blue letters sat on the white screen, blurring slightly. The Shadow Architect blinked once. Then she waved over one of her assistants.

"I must speak to a UNIT commander." She ordered.

The assistant nodded and rushed out of the room. He returned a moment later holding a long, thin white tube.

"Thank you." The Architect said. She took it from him. He stared at her blankly for a moment. The Architect sighed, waving her hand once.

After the assistant left, the Architect raised one end of the tube to her face.

There was a hiss of static as the technology cross-connected. A loud click, then:

"UNIT command, Vienna."

The Shadow Architect took a deep breath. "This is the Architect, Head of enforcing the Shadow Proclamation. There has been a serious violation on Earth, a Class Five planet. I believe you are in charge of enforcing intergalactic regulations your planet. Is this correct?"

"That is correct ma'am."

"Good. Unfortunately, due to the…._nature_of the information currently being shown, the Proclamation will have to detain some of your race for questioning."

"What kind of questioning? I'm not sure UNIT can agree…"

"I assure you that the Proclamation has all species interests in mind, and your Geneva Code will be taken into account, along with any other documents your planet has."

"One moment please, ma'am."

The Shadow Architect waited.

The voice came back. "My supervisors have agreed. They have also offered to hold the people until you can come and collect them."

"That is most kind. We will send a transport vessel, which will arrive in six of your hours. I am sending the location information currently."

With a few taps the co-ordinates were sent, and the call disconnected. The Architect could not help but feel a slight thrill.

Rory rushed to the bathroom and locked himself inside. He vaguely saw a toilet and curtains with a pattern of fish. His head was pounding. He saw faces swimming before his eyes, Sextitus, Helen, Olga, Jeffers, the little boy not three days into his life, so many others.

_He remembered France. It was late France. Rococo, or Baroque, he couldn't remember which. It didn't matter. Somehow history had happened according to plan. The Nestine Consciousness had a very detailed history of whatever planet it happened to be invading. Even better, speaking in Latin was quite the vogue for the rich and famous. Rory fit right in. Well… _

_More to the fact, he was stuck in what was one of the fancier basements of Versailles. He was wearing another centurion uniform. No matter what time period he was in, he requested the same clothing. Rory reflected he would have made an awful time traveler, but being a legend he could do away with the formalities of dressing for the period._

_The King of France was a dandy. He had come to speak to Rory a few times. Mostly it was to compare swords. He even jokingly offered to fight. Rory beat him soundly. Louie stopped visiting after that. Others did, but none as often as Madame de Pompadour._

_She insisted he call her Reinette._

_At this moment Rory was leaning on the Pandorica, feeling its warmth on his back. It was a comfort, knowing that Amy was in there, safe. He described their surroundings, the gilded ceilings and white walls and lavish furnishings. Rory didn't need to sleep, but it was nice to put up his feet every once and awhile. Reinette had them brought down. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. 1747. Rory was surprised he had lasted this long. He had gone a bit mad after Rome had fallen in 476. When Rome burned…_

_Rory shivered and hit the back of his head on the Pandorica a few times, trying to dislodge the troublesome thoughts. He had seen his people die, his world collapse, everything he lived for destroyed. But not the Pandorica. Was this how the Doctor felt, alone in a world much too slow and small and stupid, with just his box for company? _

_A door opened somewhere above, and Rory briefly heard the snatches of music and laughter. Rory opened his eyes, but didn't move, waiting. Pattering feet hurried down the steps towards him. Reinette stopped at the doorway. She paused for a moment, then curtseyed deeply._

_Rory smiled at her nervousness. It had been going on two years since she was appointed at Versailles. She was still as edgy as the first day she met him._  
><em>"Come in." He called, in French. No matter how clever Reinette was, conversing in Latin wasn't the least bit easy. She tried on occasion, but it usually spiraled into a lesson within the first ten minutes. It was a bit amusing, as Rory had almost failed French the first time around.<em>

_Reinette scurried in. She quickly perched herself on a chair. Rory rubbed a hand on the Pandorica, then joined her. _

_"How are you feeling?" she asked. It was always her first question._

_"I am fine. And you, Madame?" Always the same answer. Rory would never stop using someones title, unless asked. In Rome, a title was not just a honor, but a promise, a pact. She grinned slightly. It was becoming an old joke._

_"Please, call me Reinette. And I am very okay."_

_Rory had taught her okay accidently, a slip of the tongue, from a moment of weakness, when he thought of her as simply a friend. A good friend he could bump into in Ledworth with Amy on Saturdays, go out for a few drinks with._

_"Why are you down here?" he asked. "I can hear a party, and you shouldn't miss those on my account."_

_"You're much better company. They all want to talk about their estates today. Nothing exciting," she said. "Or adventurous." The last part was added as a afterthought._

_Rory snorted. "Adventure involves a lot of running."_

_Reinette peered at him. "You really are a Roman, aren't you?"_

_Rory had stopped saying no a long time ago. It was true, after a fashion, and nothing to be ashamed of._

_"Of course." He paused. "Why?"_

_"Oh," Reinette fiddled with her sleeve. "Some people were saying that it wasn't true. That the Lone Centurion was some kind of guild."_

_"Really?" Rory laughed. The he stopped, suddenly. "Why don't you believe them?"_

_Reinette studied his face carefully. "Well…" she shrugged. "I'll just list the reasons."_

_She held up a finger. "One: no one speaks Latin like you. I mean," she rolled her eyes, "No one. You don't need to translate even slightly in your head. And you speak it well, not half quoting like I do. You're a proper speaker."_  
><em>"Two, you don't act like a Frenchman, or Englishman. You have different…" she waived her hand airily, mannerisms. You're formalities are different.<em>  
><em>Three, you are very, very protective of the Pandorica" Reinette shook her head. "No. I might a well say it: you <em>love_ the Pandorica. You give it your utter devotion. If a man gave a woman half the devotion you give the Pandorica, he would be the happiest man in the world."_

_She must have seen Rory's expression. "Do you know that you stroke it? I don't even think you notice that you do, it's such a part of you. Or that you speak to it, constantly?"_

_Reinette reached out and touched the back of Rory's hand, where it rested on his knee. She shivered slightly, and pulled it away. Rory acted instinctively. Amy pulled away when she was nervous or scared. Rory didn't want Reinette to feel that way about him. He almost let go when he saw the fleeting expression of fear cross her face. He _was_ a thing to be scared of. An undying, unchanging man who moved through time with the blood of a thousand empires on his hands. At that moment he felt so very old_

_"And that," Reinette whispered, "right there. That expression of grief…it's as if I can see every year, every second you have ever, ever lived etched on your face. When did you say you started to guard it?"_

_Rory struggled for a moment. "One hundred and twenty, A.D."_

_Reinette turned to a side table and scrabbled for some paper. She scribbled a few lines with a quill then paused, looking at Rory. "And how old were you?"_

_"I have not idea…" He said. "I guess, twenty-six? Twenty-seven?" _

_"Twenty-six," Reinette muttered. She scratched a bit more. "Ah." She was looking with round eyes at the paper. "Oh."_

_"What?" Rory asked, a bit rudly._

_"Well,"Reinette said slowly, "I'm twenty three."_

_"Congratulations." Rory said, not unkindly. "Could you please tell me what you are looking at?"_

_Reinette swallowed, then chocked out a laugh. "Oh my. You Last Centurion, you Lone Centurion, you. You are," she glanced at the page, "one thousand six hundred and fifty three years old."_

_She looked at his face and burst out laughing. _

_"That's it." Rory growled. He crumpled up the paper, and shook it mock-angry in Reinette's face. "I'm nine hundred and seven, got it?" It was a good number, Rory decited. He could see why the Doctor used it. It had a _ring_ to it that one thousand six hundred and fifty three did not._  
><em>"Of course." Reinette sniggered. "I only thought women cared about their age."<em>

_It wasn't vanity that worried Rory, but the fact that he was almost done. After all he had been through, he still loved Amy. He loved her so fiercely, because she was his constant. His true North star in a world without them. What truly scared Rory was he didn't know how changed. When he was done, would she love him? What he had become?_

Reinette squeezed his free hand. "Come with me." She begged. "You can wait upstairs, for a little while."

Rory shook his head. "I can't. I promised, and you know..."

"Oh, you Romans and your promises." Reinette sighed. "I'll bring down some food."

Rory held up a hand as she stood. "Don't, go up there and stay, where you belong."

Reniette shook her head, eyes sad. "I know Centurion, that there is no gladness in waiting alone."

Rory leaned his head on the cool mirror. He couldn't meet his own gaze. Rory didn't think it was possible to miss a friend so, so much. Reinette, his sweet, silly, charming, kind Reinette. History had been so cruel to her.

"_Ego contristo. Ego ipsum paenitet_." He whispered.

Rory closed his eyes. It didn't help. All those he had left. Did they even exist, those meetings? Or did just the _story_of Lone Centurion survive?

"_Ab imo pectore, ego contristo._"

Someone was banging on the door.

"Rory? Rory?" It was Amy. He would have to come out eventually.

"_Venientem!_" Rory whispered. "_Mihi dare secundo._"

"What?"Amy called through the door. "What did you say?"

"_Mihi dare…_a second Amy." Rory gasped. "I'm coming. Just…give me…"

He couldn't cry. Not now. It had been too long, and there was work to do.  
>Amy continued to pound. She was slapping the same way Old Amy had, on the TARDIS doors, begging to be let in. Rory couldn't open the door this time either.<p>

Rory took a deep breath, felt the air fill his chest. Then he opened his eyes, turned, and opened the door. Amy still had her hand raised. She looked searchingly at his face.

"Rory?" she used the same tone she used with the Doctor, when she was scared and confused and out of her depth.

"Hello, Amelia." Rory hadn't said that in so long. He smiled at her, tried to show her that he was alright. "I'm fine."

When she hesitated, Rory knew he had broken something. Some sort of trust, perhaps. It made him feel cheep. He had used the Doctor's words.

Amy took a step back. That hurt worse than the hesitation. He reached out and grabbed her hand.  
>"Amy," he said, "I'm sorry."<p>

Amy shook her head, pulling on his grip. It looked like she was having trouble getting the words.

"No you're not," she finally mumbled thickly. Her face was becoming blotchy, and Rory knew she was about to cry. He pulled her into a hug.

"I am sorry." Rory stroked her hair. "I am so very sorry."

Amy shook her head again. "I miss him" she whispered into Rory's shoulder, "and sometimes I hate him. Then you act _just like him_and I wonder…I wonder if I hate you too."

His heart almost stopped. Rory could only hug her tighter. She finally spoke again.

"Could I hate you, Rory? I love you, I really do. But sometimes when you talk or move all I can see is _him_and it kills me."

Amy pushed away gently so she could look Rory in the eyes.

"Can you love someone and hate them at the same time?"

Rory shrugged. "I guess. I've never heard of any rule against it." Reinette had forgivenhim, easily enough.

Amy sniffed. "Sorry, I was being stupid."

"No you weren't." Rory gripped her shoulders. "That's a question everyone asks at some point."

"Right." Amy thumped him in the chest. "You've met lots of people."

"And they've asked me lots of questions…" Rory trailed off.

"What?" Amy asked. She smacked the side of his face lightly. "Rory, what?"

"Oh…oh." He pushed past Amy and into the kitchen. The commercial was still blaring. Rory grabbed the arm of a man standing by the coffee pot. He was wearing a long woolen coat. Rory had mistaken him for someone else from the back, someone who would have been more helpful…no time to think about the 'would have been's now.

"Eli, Eli right?" Rory asked.

Eli nodded.  
>"Good. I need you to call…oh… 999. Get them on the line and say code 456. Understand? Four-Five-Six."<p>

Eli stared at him blankly. Amy ran into the kitchen then. She looked around wildly, then spotted Rory and rushed to his side.

"Eli…" Rory said warningly.

Eli turned and grabbed for the cordless phone. It fell to the ground. A loud crack announced that the battery had fallen out.

"Hurry up, hurry up." Rory muttered. They were running out of time. And if he was right (he was _sure_he was right) then they were all going to get in so much trouble.

At that moment Jeff walked into the room with most of the party. Rory strode up to him, and stopped a couple of inches from Jeff's face.

Jeff glanced at Rory, confused.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Don't give me that." All the years as a soldier, remembering facing the Cybermen. Rory used that same coldness now. "You were trying to be clever, weren't you? New job, new girl; who would it hurt if you nicked the footage a few days early and gave a private screening?"

"I…I don't understand…"

"Oh, yes you do." Rory felt surprisingly calm. Underneath was a seething feeling, a roaring in his ears. "You just nicked the footage yesterday, right after everyone had left. Did you use the pen excuse? 'Oh I forgot my pen in the room, can I just go and grab it', you'd use it at school often enough. And now! TV is digital…I remember film, big bulky canisters, cans stacked to the ceiling…anyway, digital, so you just needed to slip a CD into your pocket, and volia! Jeff suddenly has his name on the big screen a few days early. He friends clap for him.." Rory stepped back a few paces and mockingly brought his hands a few times together. "All well that ends well, you think."

Jeff shook his head.

"That's where you're right. Clever Jeff." Rory glared at him, could feel the anger beginning to grow. Two thousand years of injustice and war. The roaring became a storm on the sand. A constant pounding of power. "All because you forgot the 'BBC' logo on the screen. You put in the commercials, so some small comfort that you have a working brain. Where you really messed up is…"

Rory was cut off by banging on the door. Rita squeaked, and Amy picked up a rolling pin. Jeff started shaking his head again.

"No, Rory I'm sorry. I'll put it back…"

Rory's reply was cut off by shouting at the door.

"This is UNIT, open up!"

….

Maria Rodriguez was new to the force. So when the call had come in for disciplinary action, she thought she would meet her first hostile alien. The thought both excited and scared her. She could get hurt or worse, but she could see a real proper hostile alien!

She snuck a glance to her left, were a cluster of people stood. Three women and two men had appeared just before the operation. They were introduced as Time Agents, working for the Shadow Proclamation. The Agents were cold eyed and stiff backed. Rodriguez didn't trust them. She was sure the feeling was mutual though.

Her commander knocked on the door again.

"Open up! This is the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. We have jurisdiction, here on Earth, according to authority of the Shadow Proclamation. There are Time Agents here, and are willing to use the fill extent of their power."

Rodriguez wondered what the neighbours must thin. All sorts of vehicles turning up; people with guns shouting about UNITs, and Time Agents, and Shadow Proclamations. They might think there was filming for a bad sci-fi movie.

The door finally opened to reveal a thin blonde woman. She looked very nervous, her eyes jumping around constantly.

"Hello." She finally said.

"We are UNIT," Rodriguez's commander said, "and we have been informed that some very sensitive information had been removed illegally from BBC studios. May we come in?"

The woman nodded jerkily. "Sure."

Rodriguez guessed there had been some party going on, before UNIT gate crashed. The woman, who introduced herself as Jackie, led them to the kitchen. In the kitchen was a bizarre sight.  
>A slightly chubby man was standing with his back to the wall. Most of the people in the room stood at the edge, watching the man in the centre. This man was thin, with dusty brown hair and gray eyes. He was watching the chubby man intently. Rodriguez saw a flicker of disgust cross the man's face. It was gone in a second.<p>

The UNIT commander spoke up. "According to regulations, you will all have to be detained for some short questioning due to the sensitive material that you have just seen."

Rodriguez expected an uproar, but no one moved. Something huge had happened here, she could tell. And it had to do with the gray-eyed man.

"We are looking for a Jeff Brown. Is there anyone here by that name?"

Almost every faced turned toward the chubby, cornered man.  
>The commander nodded at Rodriguez. Rodriguez was nervous. There were no aliens, no monsters. Just people they had to arrest.<br>"You are the last person on our list to be in known contact with the information regarding the Lone Centurion as of yesterday, at 20.35 GMT." She told the man, Jeff. "As the rest if the people in your department have already been visited and searched, your residence remained the last place the information could be stored. Will you allow UNIT to search the house and surrounding areas for the information? We can show you the warrant if you feel the need to check the validity of the document."

Jeff nodded. "Yes." His shoulders slumped. "It's in the TV."

Rodriguez saw one of the soldiers move into the den.

"As this information is of such nature, we will also search the surrounding area." Rodriguez's commander said. "We ask for your full co-operation as we move you to a more secure facility for questioning."

Three soldiers left out the front door, four out the back. Rodriguez stayed in the kitchen while the rest scattered through the house. She helped organize the people and got them all seated while the commander called in to someone waiting for pickup.

A party. Rodriguez looked at the man, Jeff. He seemed small, almost deflated. And he kept shooting glances at the grey-eyed man.

Rodriguez went up to him. He was sitting next to a red haired woman, and they were whispering softly.

She heard some of the conversation.

"UNIT was started in 1968. They keep a watch on all of the alien…"

"Hey." Rodriguez snapped. "No talking." She was scared, and was trying to be brave.

The man looked up at her. He looked to be in his late twenties, much like everyone else in the room. It was his eyes that were different. They were old eyes, full of pain and wonder and sadness and guilt. Rodriguez couldn't hold his gaze for long. She started looking at his nose instead.

She could _feel_his eyes watching her. Not in a creepy-checking-her-out kind of way, but a strip-back-the-layers-and-look-into-her-soul glance that pierced her being. It was unnerving, to say the least. When Rodriguez finally could meet his eyes again, she was surprised to find he looked somehow approving. He approved of her, of who she was. Not many people did.

She swallowed. "I'm Mara Rodriguez."

"Hello, Mara. I'm Rory Williams." He turned towards the red-head. "And this is…"  
>The woman stuck out her hand. "Amy Williams, Rory's wife."<p>

Rodriguez shook it. Then Amy turned towards he husband. She shot Rory a glare.

"You know what's going on, don't you? You know _exactly_what's going on."

Rory shrugged. "I've got an idea."

Rodriguez shook her head. "Best stop talking. We need to move you soon."

The commander's radio crackled. The commander gestured Rodriguez over.

"Start loading them up," he said.

The party had loaded without complaint, and now they all sat in a large white room. They had been led through the 'visitor's entrance', where no extra terrestrials or their technology was visible. The metal chairs were old and battered looking. Rita was pulling the stuffing out of one and dropping it on the ground.

Rodriguez watched them all through a two way mirror. Most looked nervous or scared. One person was openly crying. Except those people, Amy and Rory, who sat calmly in their seats. Rodriguez could pick them out quickly. They were speaking softly. Amy even laughed at something Rory said. Rodriguez turned when Commander Kocx entered the room.

He looked out, into the room. Rodriguez could feel him probing through the glass. It was like a slight pressure behind the ears, like when you put your fingers there and felt your heartbeat. Some people shifted, but Rory looked up. No, his head snapped up and he looked right at where Commander Kocx was standing, behind the tinted glass. Rodriguez watched as the commander's bow furrowed. He seemed to be concentrating. Then he shook his head.

He turned to Rodriguez. _Some of these know more then they tell. And one of them…._the commander paused, _to call him an elder would not be enough. It seems that UNIT has captured an ancient._

"That one?" Rodriguez pointed to Rory. "It must be him. I heard him talking about UNIT. He knew when it was founded."

_He was there when it was founded, Rodriguez._ Commander Kocx walked towards the door. _It is time to speak to them._

Rory leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back legs. He had shown Leonardo this trick. He watched Amy out of the corner of his eye. She wasn't good at waiting. All that patience, and bitterness, she had acclimated on Ampahoa left when he left the Old Amy to be erased from time. He still thought about her, the Old Amy, who knew what waiting was. It had destroyed her. Did all that waiting destroy him? If it had, Rory was sure he had been rebuilt. He hoped he wasn't as crazy as the Doctor turned out.  
>Rory remembered the moment when, after seeing the Doctor die, and speaking to his younger self, the Doctor had said:<p>

Don't ever think you can play games with me. Don't ever think you're capable of that.

The contempt, the malice, in those words worried Rory. He knew what it was like to feel that. To be the highest authority, to be powerful and avenging and without fault. Rory had felt it briefly when he was talking to Jeff, explaining just how small and insignificant the man was. He shot a smile at Jackie, and made to get up and talk to her, when the door opened. A couple of soldiers brought in a table, while a third carried a container with the lid tightly closed. They set down the table and placed the container on top. Rory watched their effectiveness, and the centurion in him approved. Amy bounced a little in her seat. The grating noise filled the room, and every head turned to look at her. In response, she tossed back her hair. Rory resisted the desire to bury his head in his hands. She promised that being a model wouldn't go to her head.

Rodriguez entered the room next followed by…an alien. The room, if possible, became even more quiet, stunned to silence.

The alien was about eight feet tall, and bipedal. Rory recognized it from a book in the TARDIS, _All of Time and Space: A Complete Guide to Inhabitants of the Universe, Vol. IIV._Somehow Rory had gotten through the whole series, A through Ʊ. Well, Z, but the TARDIS seemed to like testing his Latin.

It was an Hallowpushturain, in Latin an _Animum_ _Loquentis_, a mind speaker. It turned to look at Rory, skin white-ish blue, like a severe case of frost-bite before it turns black. The Hallowpushturain's ears seemed fused to its head, short fingers and short arms. Rory was surprised at how unexpressive its facial expressions were. But when you lived with mental communication, then facial expression wouldn't be needed.

The Hallowpushturain gazed around the room, taking in the people sitting there.

Rory could feel a pressure shift, a change in the air.

_Hello, I am Commander Walophas Kocx. I am in charge of the questioning for today. As telepathic communication might be stressful for non-telepathic species, please let me or one of the UNIT members know if you experience any discomfort or sickness during the questioning._

Commander Kocx pulled a large black ball from its pocket and pressed in a side. Kocx placed it on the table next to the container.

_This allows a temporary morphic filed in this room. For the time being, you are all telepathic. This is due to the gravity and sensitivity of the information you have seen. I will start with the meterals gathered at the scene._

Kocx pried the lid off the container and pulled out various pocketbooks and mobile phones.  
>It held up a green bag. <em>I would like you to try a claim the item using telepathic communaction. Who's is this?<em>

Jackie raised her hand. _It's mine._Her voice came through Rory's mind, strong and clear. The volume was a bit much, but good for a first try.

Suddenly the vision a a black phone poped into Rory's mind. It wasn't his, but somehow the image was accompanied by a feeling of sight longing. Some people in the room started to look around, confused. Rory focused on the feeling, tried to understand the reasons behind it…a saw one of the men twitch as Rory suddenly understood. The man wanted to let his family know he was okay.  
>Commander Kocx handed the man his phone without a word.<p>

They went through this, practicing to speak. Amy didn't seem to struggle with it, but her annoyance was clear when she claimed her bag.

Rory thought they were done when Kocx reached into the container and pulled out something long and thin and…

_That's mine!_ Rory struggled to contain his fury, but the thought of someone touching his gladus, after he had held onto it for years left him breathless. He was on his feet. _You have no right to touch that_.

Rory staked over, anger pouring off him in waves. As he reached for the sword, he saw Rodriguez flinch away, and suddenly became aware of how he was affecting the people around him. Rory forced himself to calm down, like he had seen the Doctor do. To suddenly clamp down on his emotions, and become the eye of the storm.

The sudden calmness the Rory felt was almost as deadly, a sharp chill. He reached for the gladus.

_Thank you._

Kocx did not let go_. _Rory looked it in the eyes. _I'm not scared of you._

Kocx blinked. _I know_.

Rory tugged child-like on the weapon. _This is mine._

_I know. You were very clear about that._

Rory held himself in check. He was supposed to be the calm one, he was the Lone Centurion. He could wait for two thousand years.

_What I want to know, _Kocx continued, _is where a man from the 21__st__ century can get their hands on a Roman forged weapon._

Rory resisted the urge to snap back, _In Rome._That would do him no good. Instead, he moved his other hand and grasped the wrist holding the gladus, and showed Kocx.

Kocx froze, processing what he was seeing. Rory only showed the basics, the Nestine Consciousness, the orders from the Doctor, and the opening of the Pandorica.

Kocx handed Rory the sword.

_I see._ It said. _Very well, you may keep it._

Rory returned to his seat, feeling elated. Amy watched him from her chair.

"What did you tell him?"

"I told it what it needed to know."

"Like what?"

"That this," Rory touched the gladus gently, "has sentimental value."

Rory could feel the curiosity pulsating in the room. He refused to look at them. The mood was tempered somewhat when Jeff spoke up loudly.

"What's going to happen to us?" his fear was overwhelming. Rory fought it hard. He was not scared, he was not worried in the slightest. Eye of the storm.

Amy whimpered next to him. Rory took her hand in his a rubbed it comfortingly. He tried to project calming thoughts, of Ledworth and their house and playing 'the Raggedy Doctor'. She shot him a strained smile.

Kocx looked at Jeff. _You will be sent to the Shadow Proclamation. They have requested your presence for questioning._  
>He looked around the room.<br>_All of you._

Latin Ch 2:  
>Ego contristo. Ego ipsum paenitet. I am sorry. I am full of regret.<br>Ab imo pectore, ego contristo From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry.  
>Venientem. Coming<br>Mihi dare secundo_._ I need a second (very roughly translated)

* * *

><p><em>Yah. Um... about the Latin. All I have to say...it was Google translate. So, any mistakes are theirs. Right... Opinions? Thoughts? Send them over!<em>


	3. Chapter 3

_Hooray! Chapter 3!_

_Disclaimer: I if owened Doctor Who...We would know what happened to all the Classic companions._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 3<p>

Amy felt like her stomach was left behind as the space ship ripped into the black. They had be lead, after Rory's odd _thing_, to a proper spaceship, parked inside UNIT's London HQ.

The first thing that made it look like a _proper_ spaceship was that it _was_ a spaceship, not a bigger-on-the-inside-box.

Second, it looked sleek. Like a sports car, all shine and chrome.

Third: aliens! Proper aliens! They looked like rhinos in Kevlar, with boxy guns.

The mind reading suit alien ushered them to a ramp, all E.T.-esque. Amy hurried up, and into what looked like a large hanger. It was white with curving walls and seats like a group therapy session, all in a circle. Her aunt had made her go to group therapy. Once.

She giggled. One rhino shot her a glare, but she was too giddy. They were going back into space! If only the Doctor could see them, he'd be spouting the species and life span and their favorite color.

Rory gave them a wide berth. He appreciated the Judoon's help at Demon's Run, but he didn't trust them. They were more mercenaries for hire then police, just more prone to following rules then most.

Rita looked like she was about to vomit. Jackie was supporting her, and Rory got on the other side.

Rita was whimpering, "Rhinos. There are space rhinos. Space rhinos with guns and armor. We're gonna die… we're gonna die!"

She wailed the last part, and some people paused on the ramp.

Eli walked back towards them, but Rory jerked his head, and he scurried back up the ramp.

Rory looked over at Jackie, who didn't seem to be fairing much better.

"Listen, it's going to be okay." Rory said.

Jackie glanced up, nervously.

"These are the Judoon. They work for the Shadow Proclamation, kind of like an intergalactic police force. They won't hurt you." Rory paused. "Unless they were following orders."

Rita moaned. Rory kept walking, guiding the two women up the ramp, and getting them settled. He took a seat next to Jackie and continued talking.

"These Judoon won't. The Shadow Architect is very strict on intergalactic travel, and I'm sure she wouldn't want any bad interplanetary relations here…especially as we're a Level Five."

"Level Five?" Jackie asked.

"Oh, right." Rory paused to gather his thoughts. "There are different Levels, so everyone knows what planets to be careful entering, and which to enter in full view."

He saw her expression. "You know…." he waived his hand, "clocked, un-clocked, invisible, chameleon circuits, land pods. The usual."

"Right." Jackie looked unconvinced.

Rory decided to simplify it. "Space travel varies widely, from where you're from. So they'd need to be careful entering a Level Five, is all."

A chair screeched loudly next to Rory and Jeff sat down.

"You seem to know an awful lot about this stuff. Don't tell be you've worked for them?"

Amy saved him from having to answer.

"Oi! Jeff! The Doctor, remember? Prisoner Zero?"

Jeff had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry."

Amy was quick to forgive. "It's alright! Say," she looked around the circle. "Why don't we tell each other one thing about ourselves?"

Rory watched the ramp raise as Amy tried distract the others from their situation. It was working well, until Jackie tapped his shoulder.

"Rory, your turn."

"Oh," Rory looked around, "What was the question?"

Amy grinned at him, then the smile slid of her face. "It was…" she faltered for a moment. "If you could change one decision in your life, what would it be?"

Rory knew. He regretted it any time he let his brain catch up with him. Anything he had a moment to ponder or daydream, he would remember.

The fields of Somme, July 1916.

"What?"

And Rory realized he said it out loud.

"Somme, France. The month of July, nineteen sixteen."

Jeff snorted. "You'd need a time machine…"

Amy poked him in the side. "TARDIS," she said simply.

"Then," Jeff seemed to be stumbling for words. "What happened?"

"I got lost," Rory said. It was the truth.

The ship vibrated then, a single shudder that caused the room to tilt for a second. In that moment Rory felt weightless.

"What happened?" someone shouted.

Rory looked around. How many people had Jeff had over? Twenty? Thirty? He did a quick head count. There were twenty seven people, including himself. One was Rodriguez, from UNIT, and five that he would bet were Time Agents. He'd met one during the Blitz. Tried to sell him a Chula warship. That was another story.

"We've just left the Earth's atmosphere." Rory guessed. The TARDIS made the same noise wherever it ended up. Once they landed _in_ the ocean in Space Florida. It was awkward, especially when the TARDIS threw a fit and he and the Doctor had to bail out the inside by hand.

Rodriguez looked around. "What about gravity? We're in space. It's zero G!"

"There's probably artificial gravity." Amy said soothingly. "But it'd be expensive, for a ship this large."

"The Shadow Proclamation isn't sparing any expense." Rory muttered. One of the Time Agents looked in his direction. Rory met his gaze. The Time Agent looked away first.

They hurtled on through space for a few more minutes in silence before anyone spoke. Rory saw one of the Time Agents stand. All the partygoers looked up at her.

"I am a Time Agent." So Rory was right. Once you see a vortex manipulator, you never forget. Jack had been more than happy to show off for Rory. "We are responsible for your care. UNIT could only offer on standby," here she spared a glance at Rodriguez, "so the Shadow Proclamation offered our services. However, we are not under the _control_ of the Proclamation. All conversation is being recorded at this time. It appears that two of the people here have traveled with the Doctor. Will you please stand?"

Rory stood immodesty. He knew an order when it was issued. Amy took a moment more to get out of her seat.

The Time Agent walked forward, her steps ringing on the metal floor.

"What are your names?" she asked, pulling out at thin black sheet of paper. Rory noticed with shock that it was a computer.

"Amy Williams." Amy said clearly. The Time Agent typed for a moment. Her brow furrowed.

"You're not listed." She tapped the screen a few more times. Rory could tell she was becoming frustrated. He swallowed his pride and said,

"Rory Pond."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jeff twitch. Was the man laughing?

The Time Agent didn't spare him a glance, but poked the screen irritably. Her finger froze.

"Oh." Her expression cleared. "You're both here. Amy Pond, Rory Pond." She looked at them in turn. "Official companions of the Doctor. How long have you been on Earth since your last trip?"

"About four months." Amy said.

The Time Agent frowned. "Anything more exact?"

"Three months, one week, four days," Rory paused checked his watch, "fifteen hours and twenty seven minutes."

"Ma'am," he remembered to add

The Time Agent blinked. She quickly entered something into the computer, and rolled it up and put it in her pocket.

"Thank you." She said, then walked back to her companions, where they immediately begin conversing in low voices.

Amy and Rory were left standing. One woman, her name started with an M, stage-whispered "Pond? I thought that was your maiden name?"

Amy shrugged. She flopped back into her seat. She kept going, and the momentum launched the chair back on two legs and it kept falling…

The chair jerked to a stop. Rory had managed to grab one of the supports leading to the back-rest. He pulled the chair forward until it was safely grounded.

"Watch it," he warned. "That would have ended badly."

The whole craft shuddered again. One of the Time Agents pressed a hand to their ear, then walked to the wall where the ramp had been lowered. He pressed some buttons. The ramp hissed down. Rory stared out, over Amy's head. He had been here before.

A tall woman walked slowly up the ramp. She was albino, with translucent skin and red eyes. Her eyes flicked around the room for a moment. Then she leaned forward and whispered to the Time Agent. He nodded one. The Time Agent turned to the group.

"Come on." The Agent called, "we've landed."

Jeff's party was flanked by Judoon. The albino woman lead them down white halls. They were spotless and blinding. Rory kept close to Amy, watching the activity. He recognized a lot of species from books in the TARDIS library, clustered around screens or map or water coolers. At least, Rory _thought_ they were water coolers. They could have dispensed acid for all he knew. So it turned out that reading during his insomniac bouts were helpful. A couple of Sontarans looked over as the humans passed. They were discussing intently over a map that looked suspiciously like a Navy exercise. With daleks.

Someone muttered; "Dumpy trolls."

The sound carried in the stark corridors. One of the Sontarans waddled over. Rory wasn't fooled. He had seen what one Sontaran could go against a group of Headless Monks. They were just humans. Unarmed humans. Except…

Rory was still holding onto the gladus. He hadn't even belted it on. It would waste time to mentally berate himself, so he strapped it on as discreetly as possible. One of the Time Agents glanced back and saw him. Her face paled, and she shook her head. The Sontaran stood in front of the group, blocking their progress.

Their albino guide stopped walking. The group awkwardly shuffled to a stop.

The Sontaran watched the group with distrustful eyes.

"Which one of you puny humans dare insult the might of the Great Sontaran Empire?"

Rory was about to walk forward when a woman spoke up.

"I did."

To call this woman dumpy would be an insult to dumpy people. She was swollen looking, with thick arms and legs. Her neck sank into her shoulders like wet putty. Overall, her appearance was that of a half-raised mound of dough.

A dismissive snort issued from the Sontaran.

"It would dishonor me to fight you. To crush you in combat would take no effort on my part. You are no warrior."

The albino woman bowed slightly from the waist.

"Commander Stliak" she said, "these humans are brought here on a matter of important business. It is imperative that we must not be delayed."

Stliak glared at the assembled humans.

"Fine," he snapped. The albino woman brushed past him, and the humans trooped obediently behind, flanked by their Judoon guards.

Rory entered a room with an assortment of different couches and chairs. It reminded him of the TARDIS, bright clashing colors mixed with different times. A sort of podium was near the door, but it faced the wall. Instead of a place to set a papers, there was a glass screen. Perhaps a touch computer? Rory walked past it and deeper inside. He plopped down on a large purple sofa, his gladus resting on his left side, between himself and the couch arm. No one seemed to have noticed that he was wearing it now. The weight comforted him. The gladus was short, only about the length of his forearm, but he could use it well.

The only thing that bothered him was the TV show Jeff had co-written. The Lone Centurion should have be erased from history, should have never existed. Sure, Rory remembered, but he was _there_. Rory struggled to organize his memories. There were brief flashes, of fighting, of running, of dragging the Pandorica. Even now, when Rory thought of Amy, the prison would enter his mind. The Pandorica had comforted him. And now it didn't exist.

So how could there be records of him? Was reality blending? Did Amy think of the Pandorica, just for a moment, when she called the Doctor back, did summoned his waiting into existence as well?

Amy flopped onto the couch, causing Rory to bounce slightly. He slipped an arm around her shoulder. She sighed and leaned back into his side.

"Hi."

He grinned at her quickly, then watched as the rest of the group filed in. Four of the Time Agents were missing. The one with the back paper-computer came. She took what looked like a very uncomfortable wooden stool and sat by the door.

When everyone was settled, the albino woman walked to the front of the room and stood next to the podium. She gestured towards it.

"This will scan your hand print. It will not hurt. Please come up in alphabetical order."

The albino woman swept her eyes over the assembled humans.

"I think 'A' is the first letter in your alphabet."

Rita stood and shakily walked towards the scanner.

Suddenly a side door opened, and another woman stepped through. She was unmistakable. Rory tensed. She couldn't possibly recognize him, could she?

The first albino woman bowed. Then she turned to the humans.

"I present to you the Shadow Architect."

The Architect stepped grandly into the room. Rita was frozen in the middle of the floor. The Architect walked up to Rita, who had started to shake.

"You may proceed." She told the human.

Rita squeaked and stumbled towards the scanner. She slapped her hand onto it.

"Less force," the albino woman chided (Rory understood now that she was an assistant).

No one paid her mind. They were transfixed on the wall in front of them.

Rita's picture had appeared, showing her wearing a T-shirt and jeans, standing in front of a house. A tannoy system crackled overhead.

"Adams, Rita." It spoke in an artificial, female sounding voice. "Known as Rita Adams."

Another picture appeared next to the first. It showed a Rita wearing a yellow sundress and a white hat.

"Known as Dear." The system said. "Twenty nine Earth years old. Earth-born Human. Lives on Earth, United Kingdom, Essex."

The two pictures faded, and Rita backed quickly away from the scanner and all but ran to her seat. Jackie was comforting her again.

Rory sat through the whole list. It had gotten interesting when Amy went up.

The moment her hand touched the scanner it began to beep.

A picture of a young Amy appeared.

"Williams, Amelia." It said, "Known as Amy, Amelia Pond, The Girl Who Waited."

Two more pictures appeared. One was Amy running beside the Doctor in her policewoman outfit the day the Atraxi came, and the other was the three of them- Amy, Rory, and the Doctor- standing in Space Florida, arms linked grinning like loons. That day had ended surprising well.

"Known companion to the Doctor; The Last of the Time Lords, The Bringer of Darkness, The Oncoming storm.

Has traveled extensively in the TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space, Type Forty. Slight traces of time radiation. Non-harmful.

Twenty-seven Earth-years old. Earth-born Human. Currently lives on Earth, United Kingdom, London."

The images faded, and Amy crossed over to him. She giggled and poked his side.

"I have four names." She giggled. "I think it's your turn."

Rory stood and immediately caught the Architect's eye. She was looking at his gladus in confusion, her brow furrowed. Then her expression cleared. Rory had no idea what conclusion she had come to.

He walked forward. The scanner was cool to the touch, like pressing your hand on ice. The scanner hummed.

Rory saw the picture on his ID badge appear. It had been so long since he had seen it.

"Williams, Rory." It said, "Known as Rory, Rory Pond, ... error…error.."

A small red light had begun to blink. The Architect spoke.

"Computer, what error?"

"Compressed file." The computer responded.

The Architect puffed out her cheeks. She exhaled sharply, seeming to have come to a decision. "The Shadow Architect," she called loudly, "access code Alpha-Delta-Five-Five-Nine-Seven. Open compressed file."

There was a loud whir. The computer made a heroic effort, and the red light shut off.

"Rory Pond," it continued, "The Nose, The Nurse…"

A picture had appeared, Rory standing next to the Doctor and Nixon, in the Oval Office, pouring over a map of Florida. Canton was off to the edge of the frame, in the midst of checking his gun. Rory glanced back at Amy. There was no way he could easily explain that to this crowd. Jeff looked jealous. Others had blank expressions, as if they simply couldn't comprehend what they were seeing. Rory, Nixon, an FBI agent…and a man who looked twenty-something, feet propped on the desk, dressed like an old Oxford professor.

The computer let out a loud _clank_. "Know as Marcellus Flacus Theophylactus, Roricus Pondicus, Duro Centurio, The Last Centurion."

A picture appeared on the wall next to the one of Nixon. It was a profile of a man, gladus drawn, standing in front of a large black box. The photograph was black and white, slightly blurred. Yet there was no mistaking Rory. The Pandorica loomed behind him.

The computer continued.

"English name: Rory Williams, Latin name: Marcellus Flavus Theophylactus. Born in Ledworth, United Kindom. Born in Roma, SenatusPopulusqueRomanus.

Known companion to the Doctor; The Last of the Time Lords, The Bringer of Darkness, The Oncoming storm.

Has traveled extensively in the TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space, Type Forty. Slight traces of time radiation. Non-harmful.

One thousand nine hundred and seventeen Earth-years old. Currently Earth-born Human. Currently lives on Earth, United Kingdom, London."

The computer whirred harder as the sound faded softly away. The pictures vanished.

Rory crossed the room. He sank quietly into the couch. The Shadow Architect looked smug.

"I thought it was you." She said. "You were throwing your weight around a bit more the last time you came."

Her red eyes narrowed. "I did loose six Juddon. I never got a report from you, or the Doctor. How did I lose so many fighters at Demon's Run?"

Rory shrugged. "Headless Monks. Be thankful you only lost six."

The Architect stiffened. "Headless Monks? How many?"

"I have no idea." Rory replied. "I was a bit preoccupied."

"And I assume you're the one who infiltrated the Twelfth Cyber Legion?" she asked

"I didn't infiltrate."

"I know." The Architect snapped. "You blew them out of the sky! An entire Cyber Legion! Do you have _any idea_ what kind of mess I was left to deal with?"

"My- my apologies." Rory said. "But I thought that you were fighting the Cybermen, anyway. I did you a favor."

The Shadow Architect rubbed her forehead. "We have a way of doing things. I thought Romans loved rules."

"We like revenge more." Rory couldn't help but retorted.

She glared at him. "That is no excuse to destroy half a million life forms!"

Rory had no response. Jeff was shooting him furtive glances. Rory ignored him. The Architect strode over, stood in front of him.

"Get up." She ordered. Rory slowly got to his feet. They stood eye to eye.

"Was it worth it?"

"The waiting?" Rory asked. "Absolutely." He glanced at Amy. She sat on the purple cushions, face pale.

The Time Agent came up. She smelt like too much soap, someone desperately trying to become clean. "I don't believe you can… I mean… Roman?"

The Architect gave the woman a withering glance. "That is the most advanced file system in the universe, excluding the Library. Really Anna, do you doubt me that much?"

Anna's face showed exactly what she thought of the Proclamation's system.

Anna turned to Rory. "You are almost two thousand years old?"

"I suppose."

Anna did not look amused. "How?"

"Nestine duplicate. I retained the memories."

Her eyebrows rose. "All of them?"

"All of them." Rory confirmed.

Anna sighed. "Well, the human mind isn't built to hold that much information. However," she looked Rory over. "You look sane enough."

"You should have seen me after Rome fell." He replied.

"So, that'd be about 102 A.D., when you stared to guard it?" She asked.

Rory nodded.

"Who was emperor?"

"When I left for Brittania, it was Trajon. When I got back to Rome, he was succeeded by Hadrian."

Anna pulled out her computer. She read for a moment. "Alright, but you could have learnt that in the 21st century."

"I have a gladus." Rory pointed out. It hung at his side.

"Humm." Anna barely spared it a glance. Then she did a double take. "So you were part of a legion?"

"Yes, the Isca Dumnoniorum, First Cohort."

"The First?" More tapping. "You know that the Cohorts are ranked on ability. The First Cohorts were the elite."

"I know." Rory couldn't keep the pride from his voice.

"But…a centurion had to be at least thirty, with recommendation." Anna pressed on.

Rory's expression hardened. "We were at the edge of the world. Lots of men died, lots of leaders. There weren't many men left in our legion."

Anna's was skeptical. "And you watched the Pandorica for two thousand years."

"Yes."

"Under who's orders?"

"Mine."

Anna paused. Rory heard Amy shift next to him. Someone make a chocking noise behind him.

She stepped back. "I see." Anna said.

Rory grinned. There was no warmth. "No, you don't. But thank you for trying."

Jeff stood up.

"Woah. Woah. Hold on just a second." He sputtered. "You're telling me that the Last Centurion is real, and _that's_ him? You? Rory? This has to be some kind of joke."

The Shadow Architect sighed louder. "It is physically impossible for the information to be incorrect." She seemed sick of people mocking her technology.

Amy nodded. "It's true!" Rory noticed with some concern that she still looked a little pale.

"It can't be!" Jeff shouted. "It's a bloody story! It never happened!"

"Just because there is a story doesn't mean it didn't happen." Rory said calmly.

"Well, you can't prove it." Jeff pointed out.

Rory's stomach dropped when he saw Amy perk up.

Rory grasped onto the thin joy-stick. It looked like one of the game controllers Mickey had shown off in secondary school. They party had been ushered out of the comfy chair room and into a large empty space.

Amy spun around on the white floor.

"Welcome to holo-deck four!" She crowed.

Rory glanced up at the Shadow Architect.

"Earliest memory?" Rory asked.

The woman nodded. Rory glanced at Amy. She gave him a brilliant smile, the one that made his day when he would come home from double shifts tired and cranky, sore on his feet.

_I'm sorry_. Rory tried to telepath to her. _I was a different man._

The whole room shifted. A ripple of tan ran along the walls and floors like spilt paint. The ceiling burst into a blanket of stars…which quickly vanished.

_It was odd seeing himself. The other Rory, the younger one, looked about sixteen. He stood alone in the moonlit plaza. A rat scampered past, black furred and filthy. The younger Rory flinched. _

Rory could see the party-goers, but they were hazy, half-formed. Amy slipped next to him and squeezed his hand.

"You're not very young," she whispered.

Rory grinned at her sheepishly. He was still clutching the joy-stick. It had come off its mount. He pulled the strap over his wrist. Wouldn't do to lose this in his memories. Might punch a hole in the time vortex or something. Was there such thing as a mind vortex?

"Lots of memories." He explained. "Some are harder to get at then others."

"So you remember the important ones better?" Amy asked.

Rory nodded. Only the really important ones.

Amy looked around a sniffed. "It kina stinks."

Rory shrugged. They were in the middle of Rome, in the middle of the night, a month after he turned sixteen. The memory was coming back with surprising clarity.

Some of the others were drifting around, trying to touch the objects scattered about them. Rita kept trying to pet a cat, confused when her hand would keep going. They passed through the street like wraths.

Jackie was wandering up and down the street, peeking into shops.

_The young Rory fidgeted where he stood, shooting glances around. He looked slightly ill._

Amy tugged Rory's hand. "You're wearing a dress." She giggled.

Jeff was also pointing at the younger Rory's clothing, speaking to some of the other men. The group laughed.

"It's a tunica." Rory muttered.

"What happened to the toga?" Jeff snickered.

"Togas are only for men; and those men in government." Rory snapped back, exasperated. Honestly.

_The younger Rory looked up as the sound of pattering feet was heard. A girl, about fifteen, came hurtling around a corner, giggling. She had olive skin and dark hair, wearing a blue tunica with no sleeves. The girl was a pale shape in the slivery glow._

_She barreled into the younger Rory, passing right through Eli. _

Eli sat down hard.

_She squeezed him tight around the middle. _

"_Salve, Marcus." She panted, out of breath._

_The younger Rory made a slightly strangled sound in response._

"_Sorry." She whispered. She released him, and the younger Rory stepped back, rubbing his neck._

"_Salve, Jovana." Marcus replied. They stood uncertain for a moment._

_Then Jovana grabbed Marcus' hand and dragged him to the nearest shop. The two teens settled down in the doorway, knocking knees._

When Jovana grabbed Marcus' hand, Rory made a soft noise, almost a whimper. A wave of guilt and longing rose up inside of him. Amy looked at him, confused, and then glanced at his younger self.

"What are you doing?" She whispered. "Shouldn't you be speaking Roman?"

"It will automatically translate." The Shadow Architect said. Rory had forgotten she was here. She looked like Athena, pure terrible honest wisdom. Her red eyes blinked.

The voices echoed loudly over the quiet room. Despite that, everyone was watching the two children. Rory felt almost ashamed that they would see this, but he couldn't stop it.

_Marcus bumped Jovana's shoulder. She retaliated, and they bounced off each other for a few moments. The once that Jovana bumped Marcus' shoulder and he didn't move, she stopped._

"_Why am I here?" She asked. Marcus didn't answer, tracing his finger in the dirt._

_Jovana grabbed Marcus' free hand. He didn't stop. She huffed._

"_Marcellus Flavius Theophylactus__," Jovana scolded, "you look at me right now, or so help me Juno, I am leaving."_

_She made to get up, dropping Marcus' hand as she moved._

_Marcus looked up and the expression of fear was clear on his face for a second._

Rory felt a pain jolt through his spine. Amy gasped and flinched beside him.

"_No." Marcus quickly grabbed Jovana's hands. "You can't go."_

_He sounded so desperate. _Rory remembered how he wanted to come across as calm and in control, but he was so scared_._

_Jovana paused. She sank back down next to Marcus._

"_Whatever it is," she said, "you can tell me."_

_Marcus swallowed. "How did you get here?" He was stalling. They both knew it._

_Jovana laughed anyway, eager to talk. "I gave the servants the slip." She boasted._

"_Disobeying your father," Marcus mock-scolded. "Not proper for a Roman girl."_

"_Please." Jovana over-dramatically tossed her hair. It shone like oil in the dim light. "I am at least a woman. And Father said to never trust you Theophylactus. The whole lot of you are trouble. He says you should all be shipped off to the auxiliary."_

Another wave of pure fear washed through the room. Rory realized it was him. It was his sixteen year old emotions being blasted through their minds.

Amy wondered why the little Rory didn't correct the Roman girl. Then it hit her in the gut. The little Rory didn't remember her- didn't know her, just like she had forgotten him. At that very second she knew something bad was going to happen, because that little Rory had never loved a little Amelia in Ledworth.

_Jovana caught Marucs' expression this time._

_Her face paled even more in the moonlight._

"_Please." She said again, but her voice was soft. "No. Oh, no."_

_Marcus grinned. It looked forced. "Well, as I am a Roman…" he bumped Jovana's shoulder with his, "I'm going into the legion."_

"_That's…that's six years!" Jovana hissed. Her eyes were wet. "Six years, and they might promote you or make you draw lots or you could be attacked or supplies cut off or…." Her voice faltered. "Or you might die."_

_Marcus placed his hands on either side of Jovana's head. "No dying here. It's only six years." He chuckled. "What could happen in all that time?"_

_Jovana bowed her head. "A lot."_

Rory was very much aware of all the people around him. Amy held his hand so tight that his fingers were numb.

A rush of emotions washed through the room- anticipation, fear, anger, joy.

_Marcus pulled a strip of cloth out of his pocket. "This is the best promise I can make."_

_Jovana stared uncomprehendingly at the strip. Marcus reached half-way, and she placed her hand in his. He wrapped one end around her hand once, twice, three times. Jovana quickly did the same with Marcus'. They sat still for a moment, looking at their joined hands._

Rory was part surprised, part embarrassed at how hard the two teens were breathing.

"Did you just…" Jackie sputtered. She looked at Rory with new eyes. "Did you just get married before shipping off?"

"I suppose so." Rory responded. He couldn't keep the grin off this face though.

Amy made a chocking sound next to him. Rory tugged her hand gently until she looked at him.

"I'm sorry." Rory said. "I didn't know you."

Amy looked heartbroken. Her eyes were full of tears. Rory brushed one away.

Rory kept talking. "I did dream about you. I thought you were Venus. 'Cause I'd never seen a girl with red hair besides paintings of the gods. I figured you must have been one."

Amy smiled, a bit watery. "Oh, thanks." She paused, thinking. "Who's Venus?"

"Goddess of love," piped up Eli. He looked a bit put out, still sitting on the floor.

Rory was about to add "and of beauty" when Jeff make a chocking noise. They looked over at the doorway where…

_Marcus and Jovana had decided to kiss._

"Whoa." Rita yelped. "Their doing it like it's going out of style."

* * *

><p><em>Yah. Um... about the Latin. All I have to say...it was Google translate. So, any mistakes are theirs. Right... Opinions? Thoughts? Send them over!<em>


	4. Chapter 4

Hello All,

This is Leonessa Ivanovna. I'm sorry for such a long siclence.

In all honesty, I'd forgotten about this site, and all the work I had left unfinished.

I'm letting you know now I plan on finishing every story.

This is the order of completion:

HIVZ August 2013

Auld Lang Syne October 2013

Planetside January 2014

TBC April 2014

Any questions of comments?

Please PM me.

If you're still reading, thank you.

Leo


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